


Strong-Willed Warrior

by methylviolet10b



Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Gen, Injury, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-13
Updated: 2013-07-13
Packaged: 2017-12-19 08:13:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/881520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/methylviolet10b/pseuds/methylviolet10b
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lestrade's willing to talk about almost anything, if only Doctor Watson will stay conscious.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Strong-Willed Warrior

**Author's Note:**

>  Written for JWP #12: **The naming of characters is a difficult matter.** For example, 'Sherlock' means 'fair-haired'; John means 'God is Gracious.' Either use one (or both) of these bits of trivia in your story, or include a character whose name means something appropriate to his/her part.
> 
>  **Warnings** : Wildly improbable knowledge of esoterica; unspecified but grave whumpage. **And absolutely no beta.** This was written in a complete rush. You have been warned.  
> 

  
  
  
“Really? John means ‘God is Gracious?’ That’s very interesting.” Actually, I found it more bizarre than anything else that Doctor Watson should know such a thing (if it was even true), but anything to keep the man conscious and talking. I could feel his warm blood seeping through the torn strips of shirting I’d wrapped around his arm, no matter how tightly I pressed down to try and slow the bleeding.  
  
Doctor Watson’s eyes fixed glassily on my face, and he seemed to read my mind the way his friend Mr. Holmes so often did. “Mycroft gave Mary and me a book of names and their meanings when Mary was expecting,” he explained softly. “A strange gift, perhaps, but very like him, you know. And I found it unexpectedly fascinating.”  
  
I felt a chill run up my spine. It was the first time I could remember the doctor mentioning the late Mrs. Watson since Mr. Holmes’ return. I sent up a quick, devout prayer that the detective – or some of the constables from the Yard who were _supposed_ to have been here – found us quickly. “I guess so. And that’s not a bad meaning for a name, now is it?”  
  
“There are times when I’ve found it somewhat ironic.” His eyes drifted half-closed again, and I pressed down harder. “Or doubted its veracity, at any rate.” He grunted a little at the increased pressure, and focused once again on me. “But what about you, Lestrade?”  
  
I blinked. “What? Do I doubt God is gracious?” Every day, some days, seeing what I see on the job. Yet I see plenty of evidence that he can be gracious, too. It’s a contradiction.  
  
Watson chuckled, a breathy, pained noise, but one that eased a little of my worry. “No. What about your Christian name? If you ever mentioned it to me, I’ve forgotten it.” He frowned. “And that’s really rather rude of me not to know, given how long we’ve known each other. My apologies.”  
  
“None needed,” I assured him. “I’m not surprised you don’t know it; I’m not that fond of my given name, actually, so I don’t use it much.”  
  
A spark of curiosity brightened his eyes. “So what is it?”  
  
I sighed, but anything to keep his interest, keep him conscious until help could arrive. _If_ it arrived, but I wouldn’t worry him with that. “Guillaume.” The doctor looked puzzled, so I repeated it. “Guillaume Lestrade. My father was French.” A difficult name growing up, one that doesn’t shorten well in English. There’s only so many times a boy will tolerate being called “Gull” before fists enter the matter.  
  
“Oh. William.”  
  
Now it was my turn to be confused. “I beg your pardon?”  
  
“Guillaume is the French version of William. It means ‘strong-willed warrior’. It was one of the names we considered, actually, William, but…” He did not finish the thought. “It suits you, really.” His eyes fluttered shut, and stayed closed this time despite all my efforts.  
  
Swearing mightily under my breath, I continued to do my best to keep Doctor Watson’s remaining blood inside of him, all the while reflecting that if God was indeed gracious, my stubborn efforts would prove sufficient, and help would arrive soon.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted July 12, 2013.
> 
> Want more of this story? Continued in [Lumineux](http://archiveofourown.org/works/883677).


End file.
